Splurt…
A faint yet distinct sound of flesh tearing rang out.
Crimson blood, still carrying the warmth of life, flowed steadily from the cold black blade of the sickle, trickling downward and staining the soil beneath into a dark-red blossom.
Drip… drip… drip…
One drop.
Another.
And another.
The blood did not burst forth violently. Instead, it slowly and stubbornly seeped out from his chest, soaking and dyeing the fabric over his heart red.
"Why?"
Hanzo's hand gripping the sickle trembled, not from fear.
Every ounce of his strength, every fragment of his will, had been poured into this act. The blade's tip had already pierced his chest.
But now…
It could go no farther.
At some point, Nagato had raised his hand toward him.
Universal Pull had seized Hanzo's arm.
The man who wished to die was desperately trying to drive the blade deeper into his own heart.
Yet the very person who should have wanted him dead the most was stopping him.
Arata silently watched the scene unfold, merely glancing sideways at Obito hiding in the corner before subtly shifting his footing.
"Do you want to kill me with your own hands instead?"
Hanzo lifted his head to look into those cold eyes, tightly gripping the black sickle handle as he spoke in a deep voice:
"Your enemy stands before you. Don't you want revenge?"
Konan stood frozen in place.
Her face, once hardened by hatred, stiffened as she stared fixedly at the sickle Hanzo himself had driven through his own chest.
She watched the crescent-shaped blade slowly become stained with glaring blood…
"I still can't forgive you."
Nagato's voice sounded like rusted gears grinding together.
Within those Rinnegan eyes, the detached indifference and transcendence of a "god" cracked open slightly.
Beneath that crack was blazing magma, fury and denial so intense they threatened to burn away all reason.
Those were human emotions.
"If possible, I want to kill you with my own hands right now!"
Nagato's suppressed voice squeezed out from clenched teeth.
"Just thinking about it makes my whole body tremble uncontrollably!"
"Then why aren't you doing it?!"
Hanzo's expression darkened like iron as he demanded:
"Don't tell me you still believe in Yahiko's naive fantasy that 'mutual understanding can bring peace'!"
"I was willing to entrust both my life and Amegakure to you precisely because I learned that you intended to bring peace through fear, by seizing the tailed beasts and creating forbidden weapons capable of terrifying the other nations!"
In Hanzo's eyes, Nagato's plan was a realistic and achievable path.
Even Arata, standing nearby, thought the same.
Yahiko and Jiraiya were idealists.
They felt guilt over harming others and hoped that mutual understanding between people would naturally dissolve conflict.
Both possessed grand dreams yet lacked the power to truly realize them.
The former had already died within his naive ideals.
The latter understood his own helplessness and could only place his hopes in the vague prophecy of a Child of Destiny.
Hashirama Senju existed somewhere between idealism and realism.
He hoped people could understand one another but never fantasized that everyone truly would.
He merely believed each generation should do what it could in its own era.
Thus, he used overwhelming power to end the Warring States Period and establish a new order, hoping future generations would continue his work.
Though his descendants failed to live up to his expectations and wars still erupted after his death, things were still somewhat better than the Warring States era, when children as young as five or six were sent to battle and the average lifespan barely exceeded thirty.
Of course, that improvement only applied to the great nations.
For the small countries reduced to sacrifices, life became even harsher than during the Warring States Period.
When the five war machines collided, the only ones crushed between them were the smaller nations.
Naruto, meanwhile, possessed the mindset of an idealist while acting like a realist.
He believed that if people understood and forgave each other, endless hatred between nations could finally end.
Yet he once knelt before the Fourth Raikage, begging him not to execute Sasuke for kidnapping Killer B.
He arrogantly pleaded that he "didn't want Sasuke to become the reason Kumo and Konoha slaughtered each other."
And in the end, the Fourth Raikage silenced him with a single sentence:
"After I kill Sasuke, you can forgive me then."
Later, peace was ultimately achieved only through overwhelming power.
Yet the world itself still never truly changed.
After Naruto's death, the ninja world would inevitably fall into the same cycle once more.
Hanzo, who had witnessed endless war and death, naturally understood this.
Both he and the later Sasuke Uchiha were realists.
They rationally recognized that after countless wars, the ninja world had already become saturated with hatred.
Mutual understanding and forgiveness between people were impossible.
Thus, the only solution was to use overwhelming power to end conflict, establish a new order, and rule the entire shinobi world.
This was not an ending.
It was merely a new beginning.
"As long as you can create these so-called tailed-beast weapons and gain the power to instantly destroy an entire nation,"
Hanzo said deeply, "then those who crave war will become too afraid to act recklessly!"
"Though it cannot bring true peace, if such peace can last for several generations, then once those who carry hatred from war die off, there will be hope to establish a new peaceful order and change the current situation!"
Even if a new peaceful order could not truly be created, several decades of peace alone would already be enough!
Even Hashirama Senju himself, despite his immense strength, maintained peace for only twenty years because he naïvely underestimated human greed and desire!
If Nagato could achieve decades of peace, Hanzo was willing to die and hand Amegakure over to him.
But…
"Tell me!"
Hanzo stared fixedly at Nagato as he demanded:
"What exactly are you hesitating over now?"
"Then tell me first."
Nagato's voice became even hoarser and more terrifying.
"Have you ever regretted it?"
"..."
Hanzo's movements seemed to freeze for a moment.
Subconsciously, he licked his dry lips.
After killing Yahiko and destroying the Akatsuki, whenever he looked upon the Rain Village with no worthy successor remaining, he naturally felt regret.
He often imagined, if he had not killed Yahiko but instead taken him in and guided him…
Then perhaps, after his own death, Amegakure might still have had hope for peace.
At the time, Hanzo truly had many choices.
Yet under Danzo's temptation and his own fear of death, he had chosen the worst possible option.
Hanzo understood this clearly.
But he would never say those words aloud.
He only wanted Nagato to completely abandon all illusions regarding the great nations.
"I have no regrets."
His gaze pierced through the distorted air between them and locked onto Nagato's inhuman eyes.
Unafraid of that terrifying power, he said coldly:
"Even if I were given another chance right now, I would still kill Yahiko and all of you."
"Because the naive Akatsuki, clinging to childish fantasies, would only drag the Land of Rain into the abyss!"
"Yahiko's so-called negotiations would never earn understanding or peace from the great nations!"
"And an Amegakure that abandoned its will to fight and displayed weakness would become nothing more than livestock for the great powers to butcher!"
"The only reason I came here…"
"…is because I believe that you, who possess those eyes, can lead Amegakure toward a new future."
"That you can bring peace to the Land of Rain."
"That is all."
Konan's tightly clenched fists began trembling once more.
Yet all she felt was a profound sense of helplessness and despair.
Because she knew Hanzo was right.
The naïve girl she once was had already died on that rain-soaked night long ago.
"You really do deserve to die."
Nagato's voice no longer carried anger.
It returned to that familiar cold indifference as dark ocular power surged outward.
Konan's throat moved slightly, as though trying to force out a sound.
But only a suffocated breath escaped her lips.
Yet in the next moment, what echoed through the cave was not the sound of a blade piercing flesh.
Clang!